


Instructions

by ziskandra



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Orgasm Control, Post-Canon, guided masturbation, spacer shepard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:33:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26213443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziskandra/pseuds/ziskandra
Summary: Samantha likes to make sure Shepard's taking care of herself, in every sense of the words.
Relationships: Female Shepard/Samantha Traynor
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19
Collections: Femsub Semi-Flash 2020





	Instructions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inquisitor_tohru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitor_tohru/gifts).



“The rules this time are simple,” Samantha whispers, breath hot against Shepard’s ear as she lies naked against her lover on their bed. “You can’t come until I say so.”

Just hearing Sam’s voice say those words makes Shepard press her thighs together, crescendo of lust building deep within her gut. Stupid, sexy British accent. Why did it affect Shepard so much? She wasn’t even _from_ Earth.

Maybe that’s why she finds it so arousing.

It takes Shepard a moment to realise her instructions are different from last time. Last time, she’d been told not to touch herself at all, had been completely at Samantha’s mercy. When Sam had brought her to the brink of orgasm and then stopped, commanding Shepard to brush her teeth, she’d almost sobbed. “Sam,” she’d said, “I’m nothing more than a few bits of meat held together by the finest in medical nanotechnology. I’m not going to get gum disease.”

“And I’m very grateful to Miranda for lending her expertise,” Samantha had said with a surprising firmness, at contrast with the twinkle in her eyes. “But you heard me the first time. Off you toddle.”

If Shepard had possessed any serious reservations about Sam’s instructions, she knows she is to make them known. Truth be told, though, after everything she’s been through, she finds comfort in being told what to do, in not being thrown to the whims of a galaxy with no plan or preparation but her wits and a big fucking gun.

Her mind has wandered, as it so often does these days. Shepard finds Samantha staring at her, amused. “You _can_ touch yourself,” Sam reminds her, and it’s as though Shepard has been waiting for instruction, because this phrase ( _that voice)_ spurs her into action. One of her hands drifts downwards to circle her clit, the other upwards to pinch a nipple. Dual stimulation is the most effective way of bringing herself to orgasm, a fact that Sam is intimately acquainted with.

Shepard can’t help but chuckle as she wonders what Samantha has in store for tonight. Her lover is still mostly just watching her, a hand resting against her ankle in a comforting gesture, but also holding her down, grounding her. Shepard tends to squirm once she gets all riled up. 

It doesn’t take her long until she’s jerking her hips up off the bed, so familiar with the machinations of her body that haven’t changed even after two resurrections. She really is a medical marvel, and Miranda really _should_ be thanked. She probably shouldn’t be thinking of Miranda right now.

(Again, her mind has a tendency to wander.)

Samantha’s voice cuts through the fog of arousal clouding her brain. “Did I _say_ you could come?” The hand that Shepard has slipped between her folds stills.

“No, I’m—” Shit. Sam had stopped her just in the nick of time. It would be so easy now just to let herself slip over that ledge; she can almost feel the phantom pulsing of her cunt. And yet, she doesn’t want to disappoint Samantha. Not when she takes such good care of her. Sam shifts her weight up along the bed, so she’s straddling Shepard’s knees.

“You may resume,” Sam tells her, and Shepard gratefully continues moving. “But take your time, will you?” Shepard’s clit throbs underneath her ministrations, too sensitive to the touch. Her traced circles have a larger orbit this time, and yet she’s still heaving and panting, clenching her nipple as though her life depends on it. Her eyes flutter shut as she tries to lose herself in her pleasure while also keeping a careful ear out for Sam’s instructions.

With a jolt, Shepard feels one of Sam’s fingers probing at her entrance; it glides in smoothly, guided by Shepard’s slick arousal. “Very good,” Sam says, the praise and the friction of Sam’s gently thrusting finger making the nerves in Shepard’s body light up like they’re on fire. She tries to grind down against the digit but instead, Sam withdraws it, eliciting a whiny groan from Shepard that seems to come from somewhere outside herself.

Shepard opens her eyes again just in time to see Samantha bring her fingers to her lips. It’s a sight to behold, a sight that she doesn’t have words for at the best of times, let alone when she’s naked and needy in front of the love of her life like this. She would do anything for Samantha. Surely Sam knows that.

“Do you want me inside you again?” Sam asks, brows raised, as though she’s surprised that Shepard may desire such a thing at all.

“ _Yes_ ,” Shepard answers without hesitation, canting her hips back up again in Samantha’s direction. Samantha looks away, cups a hand to her ear.

“I didn’t hear you.”

“Please, Sam, please, _please_.”

Maybe that’s what Samantha gets off on, having the saviour of the galaxy begging at (for!) her fingertips. If that’s the case, Shepard truly doesn’t mind it. They work so well together like this, she and Sam. They can both give each other what they want, what they need.

And what Shepard needs right now is _Sam._ Fortunately, Samantha is finally more than eager to deliver. There’s no more messing around now, no more teasing. Who knew that _please_ might have been the magic word all along – she’s sure that's not what her mother had meant back when she had been teaching her manners.

Her mind, it’s wandering again.

Sam’s fingers set a gruelling pace, and even though Shepard has been so close to her peak for a while now it is a struggle to keep up. Her wrists are made of cybernetics at yet somehow, they still ache. She is close, so close, and yet she must hold off, wait until she hears—

“You may come,” Sam says, and Shepard is _gone_ , legs jerking off the bed as she climaxes, cunt clenching around Samantha’s fingers. Relishing in her afterglow, she tilts her head downwards and presses a kiss against Sam’s hair.

“I love you,” Shepard tells her.

Withdrawing her fingers from Shepard, Sam answers, “I love you, too.”


End file.
